The Promise and the Oath
by Celethwing
Summary: Círdan is the eldest elf dwelling in middle earth, and it is said that he left as the last. Why? He promised to wait for her, and she promised to come as soon as she could ... but then there was an oath ...


**A Promise and an Oath**

I do not own Middle-Earth, though I dream of waking up one day and find myself as part of it.

This is a completed story, which is set in Middle-earth but unrelated to canon. I try to stick to the facts of the Silmarillion and the timeline.

Last but not least, I am not a native-speaker, and the inventors of Grammarly have my eternal gratitude.

Please, enjoy and if you do feel free to leave a review.

Elrond looked at the members of the white council, he saw Galadriel and Gandalf standing in one corner and Saruman and Galadriel already sitting in their respective seats at the roundtable seemingly deep in conversation. His gaze fell on Círdan standing leaned against a window farther away than the others. He appeared to be in deep thought. He slowly approached the elf, a figure of respect, someone that had been old when even Celeborn was young. He knew the stories that Círdan had been among the elves that made the great journey, one of the true firstborns that awakened in Cuiviénen, his foster father and mentor for many years. He noticed a small object in the old elves hands. It appeared to be a piece of wood, hanging at a dark thread and it looked old. He stepped closer, and the old shipwright slightly turned into his direction, following the peredhil´s gaze, he closed his hand around the object, before opening it completely. It was not wood as Elrond had suspected but a piece of amber, it looked like a long teardrop, and as the light caught in it, swirls of colour danced in it. It was beautiful, and somehow it appeared so pure as if no hand not elvish, not dwarvish, nor men had ever touched it, but as if it had been taken right out of nature and the only thing added had been the thread of what he now noticed to be braided elven hair of a dark colour. Círdan closed his hand around it, and Elrond felt like he was cold as if the pendant had radiated a warmth that was now taken from him. He looked into the stormy grey eyes of the sea lord and observed his eyes softening and the faintest thought of a faraway smile gracing his lips, in his deep voice, he spoke. "It is from a time, we didn´t dare to touch nature when everything was considered perfect and sacred, as it was. " His eyes seemed to darken "It is nothing but a memory now." And before Elrond could think about an answer Saruman called for their attention.

"There is nothing to worry about, I see no reason in hunting shadows." And with that statement, the discussions started. Gandalf insistent on a shadow rising. Celeborn dismissing it and Galadriel remaining silent.

At the end of the meeting which resolved with the decision to observe and remain silent, everyone went their separate way, and Elrond held Círdan back. "The strength of the elves is diminishing, many wish to sail west." Círdan smiled "As they have since the time Oromë led them west." They fell into silence, and Elrond felt the piercing eyes of the lord on him, which he had never been able to lie to. "When will you sail west?" the older elf inhaled deeply, and though he knew that he was avoiding Elrond´s questioning, he chose honesty. "When everyone who wishes to sail has sailed and some time for those who will change their mind." His knuckles turned white, so hard was he gripping the stone. Elrond didn´t continue his questioning, and he knew that the elf would avoid them anyways, he furrowed his eyes and watched the white-haired elf depart, and as he turned around, he saw that Galadriel was watching him.

She smiled, stepping closer "What has your soul so troubled?" He slowly shook his head. "Círdan-" he interrupted himself "-he did not seem like himself, distant, as if he wished to be elsewhere …" He faced the Lady of the Light and detected a slight curiosity in her eyes. "Please, continue." A little while he collected his thoughts before he did as she asked. "He held a pendant of amber as if fished out of nature perfect in itself and it held great value to him." His gaze was inquisitive, but Galadriel was lost in her thoughts. "I cannot give you the answer you seek for I do only know what was rumoured many ages ago and even though it might contain a grain of truth, it might be far from it. But if it contains the slightest piece of it, it is nothing you need to worry about." He closed his eyes and as he opened them again he spoke three words "Who was she?" Galadriel smiled "No one I have ever had the pleasure to meet." And she turned to take her leave as he held her back "He is waiting for her to come to the havens?" He noted sadness in her eyes as she spoke again "And there he will wait until she comes or he fades, and then he will know her fate. They might unite straightaway sitting together in the hall of waiting, or he will continue his watch, and she will join him in the end." And she left.

Elrond pondered that thought for a long time. If Galadriel had no answer, no one would have it, except maybe Celeborn who had lived among the Moriquendi, before the Noldor returned. He thought about the shipwright and tried to recall their first meeting. He sighted it had been the end of Morgoth reign of terror, at the end of the first age a time Galadriel had already dwelled for centuries in Doriath. He could not imagine the pain of not knowing the fate of a loved one. He thought of Celebrian and how his heart called for her. Could fate be truly that cruel? He didn´t know whether he would have survived such a wait, he calculated roughly, paling, at least five millennia. Who could this elleth be? And where could she be … could she be still alive?

Círdan rode with his few companions westward following the East-West Road until they would reach Bree to turn South until it met the North-South Road. He furrowed his eyebrows and not for the first time he asked himself why they were taking the trouble of circumventing the shire. He scolded himself silently for he knew it was not the hobbits that caused his mind to be caught in long forgotten memories. His heart weighed heavy, and he knew he would feel better as soon as they reached the havens and he could resume his hand's work.

It was several weeks later that he stood at the wharf, smelling the salt with every breeze, the wind blowing small droplets of water against his skin and the first rays of Ariel´s flame warming his very core. A smile whispered around his lips as he rolled up his sleeves to begin his day´s work. The day came and went and he could be seen carrying beams and working wood, his skin a little tanned as opposed to the majority of elves, but he wore the same grey tunic as always and a soft amber pendant dangled around his neck and a mere observer would have noticed no change. His heart grew lighter as his hands worked and as Ariel was pulled under the see to travel east he stared into the diminishing light and he held his pendant and he talked over his day and the only difference was that he added thoughts of the meeting. One might have been scared and shocked about the way he relayed information publically, but he had no audience and he spoke a language and a dialect long lost to the ears of elves.

Galadriel watched her grandchildren play and walked to Celeborn and she spoke slowly yet curiously as she relayed Elrond´s tale and Celeborn said nothing for a long time. He faced his wife and held her hand his eyes asking the unspoken question of what she wished to know. "Who was she?" Celeborn sighed. "Her name has not been spoken in many years and I shall not do it either and I only met her once and briefly and I was young and she was grieving, for she had buried the last of her kin, her brother´s child the last to ever be called king by her people … she was Teleri and they met on the great journey. I do not know how much and what is true, but it is said that they vowed to each other that they would sail together. That they would wait for each other…but I am sure as you know of the tales of your own people, the great journey was a large company and no small group and travelled at different paces." He paused. "What we know for sure is that my kin spread through Middle-earth and many never crossed the Hithaeglir, but Círdan made it to the shores and he became the Lord of the Falathrim, he became great in his art, prepared to leave whenever she would join him." Silence engulfed them. "She never came." It wasn´t a question and Galadriel felt pity for the old elf, but Celeborn chuckled coldly. "Oh no, she came. Before the sun rose for the first time, she came with some of her kin and while they mostly stayed in Ossiriand, she moved to the falas and she joined Círdan and it is told that they were very happy … until not a decade later Morgoth returned to Angband and the first battle of Beleriand occurred … Her king fell that day, and she was bound by some oath I do not recall, and she left Beleriand and I for one have little doubt that she will stay true to both her people and Círdan and he is awaiting the day of her return." Galadriel said nothing and thought about a time long forgotten and lands that had been taken by water.

oOo

Círdan had spent the early hours of the morning instructing his men and dividing their work in preparation of the next ship, they would build, and he was glad that finally, everyone had gone to work, filling the air with the constant pounding and hammering of tools. He smiled as rays of light glistered over the small waves of the water and he felt warm. A frown conquered his face as he thought about Elrond and the questions and the one question remained, would she return or had she passed to the halls of Mandos a long time ago…

 _He had felt warm back then, and though it seemed ridiculous for an elf, everything had been brighter, and the colours had increased in intensity. It had been a long time before the ships had risen the first time, in the years of the trees and under the light of the stars in the constant twilight he had been busy, building a ship. And he had looked up and there she had been._

 _He had stared at the familiar shape of the elleth he had little hope to ever see again. His heart was beating faster than ever as he had taken one step after another, as blinded by light afraid to scare away an illusion. She had smiled at him, her ocean-green eyes sparkling in the soft light, honouring her name in every way. Her dark-hair playing in the wind and they hadn´t dared to speak, afraid to break the silence. She came, had been his first thought and as if she couldn´t believe her luck either. She had touched his cheek and he had closed his eyes._

Celethwing, he thought, sparkling stream, yes that was her. He smiled softly, touching his pendant.

 _"_ _I have no choice." He nodded, seeing the sadness in her eyes. "I understand, melamin." She wished she could cry, but no tear escaped her eyes, she felt herself shiver in the sorrow of the upcoming separation. He gently caressed her cheek, this was the hardest decision he had ever made. "He was your brother´s son, you feel responsible for your people and you are bound to protect them." They locked their eyes and she covered his hand with her own, pressing it to her skin, cherishing the warmth it radiated, but their gazes stayed locked "I wish you could join me." He slowly shook his head, long had he thought about the possibility, but he had his own responsibilities now, his own people who depended on him, it tore at his very soul a feeling beyond pain. He stepped closer his lips touching hers in farewell. He watched as she mounted her horse and forced himself to smile, and she turned around and he could see the despair in her eyes "I will return." He looked after her. "And I shall wait."_

He noted that his hand still clasped the amber and a soft smile spread across his face.

 _"Círdan!" he turned around, a smile lightening his face, he chuckled, "I thought I had already lost you." He hugged her to his side and she wound her arms around his waist, he smiled she was so small, in height barely reaching his shoulder. Her face turned serious as she stared at the giants on the other side of the river. "They call them the towers of mist." He nodded, he had heard that as well. "Many are scared of whatever it is that awaits us on the other side." He looked down at her and she shook her head. "About losing each other." Fear crept into his bones, she wanted him to leave her alone, she… as he saw the sparkle in her eyes, he calmed immediately. "I have found something and I want to give it to you." He couldn´t find his voice as she took his hand and placed a piece of amber in it. It was beautiful, without any edge, like a pearl of morning dew, gliding down a leaf. She had added a thread of no doubt her own hair and in his utter disbelief and joy he grabbed her and hugged her, pressing her small frame into his larger. She smiled and still, he could see the serious question in her eyes and he nodded "I thank you, Celethwing. I shall always carry it." She tilted her head and smiled and in an attempt to break the serious atmosphere he spoke again. "Where did you find this?" Her eyes twinkled now._

He didn´t find it within himself to curse Osse for sending rain. He didn´t even feel it. He watched the surging waves, splashing against the shore and pier, breaking against the steady rock. Flogging and foaming, glistering in the little light shining through the grey clouds. "Celethwing" he sighed, taking in the stormy sparkles.

"Círdan" came a soft reply almost inaudible by the noise of the churning sea. He slowly turned his head, noticing someone several meters behind him. He turned around, to tell whoever it was to leave him and his thoughts alone, but he looked into green-eyes, and though they were much older now, so were his and he smiled. For the first time in six millennia, three centuries, thirty-four years and sixty-seven days, his eyes glowed and radiated light, he took her hand, and they didn´t move, lost in memory until she spoke words he had wished to hear for a very long time. "I am home." He led her inside, and she started talking and told him her story, of an oath, a journey, her people, a new king his son and the one she had chosen to guide her people through the darkness. He held her close running his fingers through her hair and he kissed her, and after a long silence in which both enjoyed to be united, he told her of Beleriand and its Battles, of his foster son and Gil-Galad, and he talked of his passion the ships and the sea.

oOo

A few years later he sent a messenger to Celeborn the only elf close to their age remaining in Middle-earth, asking him if he remembered the traditional bonding ceremonies of their kin and whether he would be willing to finally bond them, they had learnt that there was no time like the present.

oOo

A smile played on Celeborn´s lips as he read the letter and he was in deep thought as Galadriel approached him "Your thoughts seem far away melamin." He met her gaze and smiled. "I´ll be travelling to the havens." Shock was all Galadriel felt, but he covered her hand with his soothingly. "Do not worry, I´ll not leave without you, and I´ll return."

oOo

Celethwing had fulfilled her oath and kept her promise, and they stayed near the water as the Teleri had, since the very beginning and it is said that they sailed at last sometime in the fourth age, together.

THE END

Namárië … and thank you for reading. - _Celethwing_


End file.
